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THE KING'S 
HIGH WAY 



BY 



JOHN 9XENHAM 

AUTHOR OF "bees IN AMBER," ETC. 




NEW YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



A^ 






COPYRIGHT, 19 16, 
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



or- 

N9V-4'f9!6 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



:^CI.A445505 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 

A wonderful Way is The King's High Way; 
It runs through the Nightlands up to the Day; 
From the wonderful WAS, by the wonderful IS, 
To the still more wonderful IS TO BE, — 

Runs The King's High Way. 

Through the crooked by-ways of history. 

Through the times that were dark with mystery. 

From the cities of man's captivity. 

By the shed of The Child's nativity. 

And over the hill by the crosses three. 

By the sign-post of God's paternity. 

From Yesterday into Eternity, — 

Runs The King's High Way. 
And wayfaring men, who have strayed, still say 
It is good to travel The King's High Way. 

Through the dim, dark Valley of Death, at times. 
To the peak of the Shining Mount it climbs. 
While wonders, and glories, and joys untold 
To the eyes of the visioned each step unfold, — 
On The King's High Way. 
[89] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY (continued) 

And everywhere there are sheltering bowers, 
Plenished with fruits and radiant with flowers, 
Where the weary of body and soul may rest. 
As the steeps they breast to the beckoning crest, — 
On The King's High Way. 

And Inns there are too, of comforting mien, 
Where every guest is a King or a Queen, 
And room never lacks In the inns on that road, 
For the hosts are all gentle men, like unto God, — 
On The King's High Way. 

The comrades one finds are all bound the same 

way. 
Their faces aglow in the light of the day; 
And never a quarrel is heard, nor a brawl, 
They're the best of good company, each one and 

all,— 

On The King's High Way. 

So, gallantly travel The King's High Way, 
With hearts unperturbed and with souls high and 

gay, 

There is many a road that Is much more the mode. 
But none that so surely leads straight up to God, 
As The King's High Way. 
[90] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE WAYS 

To every man there openeth 

A Way, and Ways, and a Way, 

And the High Soul climbs the High Way, 

And the Low Soul gropes the Low, 

And in between, on the misty flats. 

The rest drift to and fro. 

But to every man there openeth 

A High Way, and a Low. 

And every man decideth 

The Way his soul shall go. 



[91] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



AD FINEM 

Britain! Our Britain! uprisen in the splendour 

Of your white wrath at treacheries so vile; 

Roused from your sleep, become once more de- 
fender 

Of those high things which make life worth life's 
while ! 

Now, God be thanked for even such a wakening 
From the soft dreams of peace in selfish ease, 
If it but bring about the great heart-quickening, 
Of which are born the larger liberties. 

Ay, better such a rousing up from slumber; 
Better this fight for His High Empery; 
Better^ — e'en though our fair sons without number 
Pave with their lives the road to victory. 

But — Britain! Britain! What if it be written, 
On the great scrolls of Him who holds the ways. 
That to the dust the foe shall not be smitten 
Till unto Him we pledge redeemed days ? — 

[92] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



ADFINEM (continued) 

Till unto Him we turn — in deep soul-sorrow, 
For all the past that was so stained and dim, 
For all the present ills — and for a morrow 
Founded and built and consecrated to Him. 

Take it to heart! This ordeal has its meaning; 
By no fell chance has such a horror come. 
Take it to heart ! — nor count indeed on winning, 
Until the lesson has come surely home. 

Take it to heart! — nor hope to find assuagement 
Of this vast woe, until, with souls subdued. 
Stripped of all less things, in most high engage- 
ment. 
We seek in Him the One and Only Good. 

Not of our own might shall this tribulation 
Pass, and once more to earth be peace restored; 
Not till we turn, in solemn consecration. 
Wholly to Him, our One and Sovereign Lord. 



[93] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



EVENING BRINGS US HOME 

Evening brings us home, — 
From our wanderings afar, 
From our multifarious labours, 
From the things that fret and jar; 
From the highways and the byways. 
From the hill-tops and the vales; 
From the dust and heat of city street. 
And the joys of lonesome trails, — 

Evening brings us home at last, 

To Thee, 



From plough and hoe and harrow, from the 

burden of the day, 
From the long and lonely furrow in the stiff re- 
luctant clay. 
From the meads where streams are purling. 
From the moors where mists are curling, — 

Evening brings us home at last, 
To rest, and warmth, and Thee. 
[94] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



EVENING BRINGS US HOME (continued) 

From the pastures where the white lambs to their 

dams are ever crying, 
From the byways where the Night lambs Thy 

Love are crucifying, 
From the labours of the lowlands, 
From the glamour of the glowlands, — 

Evening brings us home at last, 
To the fold, and rest, and Thee, 

From the Forests of Thy Wonder, where the 

mighty giants grow. 
Where we cleave Thy works asunder, and lay the 

mighty low, 
From the jungle and the prairie. 
From the realms of fact and faerie, — 

Evening brings us home at last, 
To rest, and cheer, and Thee. 

From our wrestlings with the spectres of the dim 

and dreary way. 
From the vast heroic chances of the never-ending 

fray. 
From the Mount of High Endeavour, 
In the hope of Thy For Ever, — 

Evening brings us home at last, 
To trust and peace, and Thee, 
[95] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



EVENING BRINGS US HOME (continued) 

From our toillngs and our moilings, from the 

quest of daily bread, 
From the worship of our idols, and the burying 

of our dead, 
Like children, worn and weary 
With the way so long and dreary, — 

Evening brings us home at last, 
To rest, and love, and Thee, 

From our journeyings oft and many over strange 

and stormy seas. 
From our search the wide world over for the 

larger liberties, 
From our labours vast and various, 
With our harvestings precarious, — 

Evening brings us home at last. 
To safety, rest, and Thee, 

From the yet-untrodden No-Lands, where we 

sought Thy secrets out. 
From the blizzards of the Nightlands, and the 

blazing White-Lands' drought, 
From the undiscovered country 
Where our IS is yet to be, — 

Evening brings us home at last, 
To welcome cheer, and Thee, 
[96] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



EVENING BRINGS US HOME (continued) 

From the temples of our living, all empurpled 

with Thy giving, 
From the warp of life thick-threaded with the 

gold of Thine inweaving, 
From the days so full of splendour, 
From the visions rare and tender, — 

Evening brings us home at last, 
To quiet rest in Thee, 

From the Dim-Lands, from the Grim-Lands, from 

the Lands of High Emprise, 
From the Lands of Disillusion to the Truth that 

never dies; 
With rejoicing and with singing. 
Each his rightful sheaves home-bringing, — i 
Evening brings us all at last, 
To Harvest-Home with Thee. 

From the fields of fiery trying, where our bravest 

and our best. 
By their living and their dying their souls' high 

faith attest, 
From these dread, red fields of sorrow. 
From the fight for Thy To-morrow, — 

Evening brings each one at last, 
To GOD'S own Peace in Thee, 
[97] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE REAPER 

All through the blood-red Autumn, 

When the harvest came to the full; 

When the days were sweet with sunshine, 

And the nights were wonderful, — > 

The Reaper reaped without ceasing. 

All through the roaring Winter, 

When the skies were black with wrath, 

When earth alone slept soundly. 

And the seas were white with froth, — 

The Reaper reaped without ceasing. 

All through the quick of the Spring-time, 
When the birds sang cheerily. 
When the trees and the flowers were bur- 
geoning. 
And men went wearily, — 

The Reaper reaped without ceasing. 

All through the blazing Summer, 
When the year was at its best. 
When Earth, subserving God alone. 
In her fairest robes was dressed, — 

The Reaper reaped without ceasing, 
[98] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE REAPER (continued) 

So, through the Seasons' roundings, 
While nature waxed and waned, 
And only man by thrall of man 
Was scarred and marred and stained, — 

The Reaper reaped without ceasing. 

How long, O Lord, shall the Reaper 
Harry the growing field? 
Stretch out Thy Hand and stay him, 
Lest the future no fruit yield! — 

And the Gleaner find nought for His 
gleaning. 

Thy Might alone can end it, — 
This fratricidal strife. 
Our souls are sick with the tale of death. 
Redeem us back to life! — •• 

That the Gleaner he glad in His glean- 
ing. 



[99] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



NO MAN GOETH ALONE 

Where one is, 
There am I, — 

No man goeth alone! 

Though he fly to earth's remotest bound, 
Though his soul in the depths of sin be 
drowned, — 

No man goeth alone! 



Though he take him the wings of fear, and flee 
Past the outermost realms of light; 
Though he weave him a garment of mystery. 
And hide in the womb of night, — 
No man goeth alone! 



Though apart in the city's heart he dwell. 
Though he wander beyond the stars. 
Though he bury himself in his nethermost hell, 
And vanish behind the bars, — 

No man goeth alone! 
[100] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



NO MAN GOETH ALONE (continued) 

For I, God, am the soul of man, 
And none can Me dethrone. 
Where one is. 
There am I, — 

No man goeth alone! 



[101] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



ROSEMARY 

Singing, she washed 

Her baby's clothes, 

And, one by one. 

As they were done, 

She hung them in the sun to dry, 

She hung them on a bush hard by. 

Upon a waiting bush hard by, 

A glad expectant bush hard by, 

To dry in the sweet of the morning. 

The while, her son. 

Her little son. 

Lay kicking, gleeful, 

In the sun, — 

Her little, naked. Virgin son. 

O wondrous sight ! Amazing sight !• 
The Lord, who did the sun create. 
Lay kicking with a babe's delight, 
Regardless of His low estate. 
In joy of nakedness elate. 
In His own sun's fair light! 
[102] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



ROSEMARY (continued) 

And all the sweet, sweet, sweet of Him 

Clave to the bush, and still doth cleave, 

And doth forevermo;*e outgive 

The fragrant holy sweet of Him. 

Where'er it thrives 

That bush forthgives 

The faint, rare, sacred sweet of Him. 

So — ever sweet, and ever green, 
Shall Rosemary be queen. 



[103] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



EASTER SUNDAY, 1916 

The sun shone white and fair, 

This Eastertide, 

Yet all its sweetness seemed but to deride 

Our souls' despair; 

For stricken hearts, and loss and pain, 

Were everywhere. 

We sang our Alleluias, — 

We said, ''The Christ is risen! 

From this His earthly prison, 
The Christ indeed is risen. 
He is gone up on high, 
To the perfect peace of heaven." 

Then, with a sigh. 

We wondered . . . 

Our minds evolved grim hordes of huns. 

Our bruised hearts sank beneath the guns. 

On our very souls they thundered. 

Can you wonder? — Can you wonder. 

That we wondered. 

As we heard the huns' guns thunder? 

That we looked in one another's eyes 

And wondered, — 

[104] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



EASTER SUNDAY, 1916 (continued) 

^'Is Christ indeed then risen from the dead? 
Hath He not rather fled 
For ever from a world where He 
Meets such contumely f^ 

Our hearts were sick with pain, 
As they beat the sad refrain, — 

^^How shall the Lord Christ come again? 

How can the Lord Christ come again? 

Nay, — will He come again? 

Is He not surely fled 

For ever from a world where He 

Is still so buffeted f 

But the day's glory all forbade 
Such depth of woe. Came to our aid 
The sun, the birds, the springing things. 
The winging things, the singing things; 
And taught us this, — 

After each Winter cometh Spring, — 
God's hand is still in everything, — 
His mighty purposes are sure, — 
His endless love doth still endure. 
And will not cease, nor know remiss, 
Despite man's forfeiture. 
[105] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



EASTER SUNDAY, 1916 (continued) 

The Lord is risen indeed! 

In very truth and deed 

The Lord is risen, is risen, is risen; 

He will supply our need. 

So we took heart again, 

And built us refuges from pain 

Within His coverture, — 

Strong towers of Love, and Hope, and Faith, 

That shall maintain 

Our souls* estate 

Too high and great 

For even Death to violate. 



[106] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE CHILD OF THE MAID 

On Christmas Day The Child was born, 
On Christmas Day in the morning; — 

— To tread the long way, lone and lorn, 
— To wear the hitter crown of thorn, 
— To break the heart by man's sins torn, 
— To die at last the Death of Scorn. 
For this The Child of The Maid was born, 
On Christmas Day in the morning. 

But that first day when He was born, 

Among the cattle and the corn, 

The sweet Maid-Mother wondering, 

And sweetly, deeply, pondering 

The words that in her heart did ring, 

Unto her new-born king did sing, — 

*'My baby, my baby. 
My own little son, 
Whence come you. 
Where go you. 
My own little one? 
Whence come you? 

[107] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE CHILD OF THE MAID (continued) 

Ah now, unto me all alone 

That wonder of wonders is properly known. 

Where go you? 

Ah, that now, 'tis only He knows, 

Who sweetly on us, dear, such favour bestows. 

In us, dear, this day is some great work begun, — 

Ah me, little son dear, I would it were done ! 

I wonder ... I wonder . . . 

And — wish — it — were — done I 

"O little, little feet, dears. 
So curly, curly sweet! — 
How will it be with you, dears. 
When all your work's complete? 
O little, little hands, dears, 
That creep about my breast! — 
What great things you will do, dears. 
Before you lie at rest! 
O softest little head, dear, 
It shall have crown of gold. 
For it shall have great honour 
Before the world grows old! 
O sweet, white, soft round body, 
It shall sit upon a throne! 
My little one, my little one, 

[108] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE CHILD OF THE MAID (continued) 

Thou art the Highest's son I 

All this the angel told me, 

And so Tm sure it's true, 

For he told me who was coming, — 

And that sweet thing is YOU.'' 

On Christmas Day The Child was born, 

On Christmas Day in the morning; — 

— He trod the long way, lone and lorn, 
— He wore the hitter crown of thorn, 
— His hands and feet and heart were torn, 
— He died at last the Death of Scorn. 

But through His coming Death was slain. 

That you and I might live again. 

For this The Child of The Maid was born, 
On Christmas Day in the morning. 



[109] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



WASTED? 

Think not of any one of them as wasted, 
Or to the void like broken tools outcasted, — 
Unnoticed, unregretted, and unknown. 
Not so is His care shown. 

Know this ! — 

In God's economy there is no waste, 

As in His Work no slackening, no haste; 

But noiselessly, without a sign. 

The measure of His vast design 

Is all fulfilled, exact as He hath willed. 

And His good instruments He tends with care. 
Lest aught their future usefulness impair, — 
As Master-craftsman his choice tools doth tend. 
Respecting each one as a trusty friend. 
Cleans them, and polishes, and puts away, 
For his good usage at some future day; — 
So He unto Himself has taken these. 
Not to their loss but to their vast increase. 
To us, — the loss, the emptiness, the pain; 
But unto them — all high eternal gain. 

[110] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



SHORTENED LIVES 

To us it seemed his life was too soon done, 
Ended, indeed, while scarcely yet begun; 
God, with His clearer vision, saw that he 
Was ready for a larger ministry. 

Just so we thought of Him, whose life below 
Was so full-charged with bitterness and woe. 
Our clouded vision would have crowned Him 

King, 
He chose the lowly way of suffering. 

Remember, too, how short His life on earth, — 
But three-and-thirty years 'twixt death and birth. 
And of those years but three whereof we know. 
Yet those three years immortal seed did sow. 

It is not tale of years that tells the whole 
Of Man's success or failure, but the soul 
He brings to them, the songs he sings to them. 
The steadfast gaze he fixes on the goal. 



[Ill] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



LAGGARD SPRING 

Winter hung about the ways, 
Very loth to go. 

Little Spring could not get past him, 
Try she never so. 



This side, — that side, everywhere, 
Winter held the track. 
Little Spring sat down and whimpered. 
Winter humped his back. 



Summer called her, — "Come, dear, come ! 
Why do you delay?" 
"Come and help me, Sister Summer, 
Winter blocks my way." 



Little Spring tried everything. 
Sighs and moans and tears. 
Winter howled with mocking laughter. 
Covered her with jeers. 
[112] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



LAGGARD SPRING (continued) 

Winter, rough old surly beggar, 
Practised every vice. 
Pelted her with hail and snow storms, 
Clogged her feet with ice. 

But, by chance at last they caught him 
Unawares one day. 
Tied his hands and feet, and dancing. 
Sped upon their way. 



[113] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



LONELY BROTHER 

Art thou lonely, O my brother? 
Share thy little with another! 
Stretch a hand to one unfriended, 
And thy loneliness is ended. 
So both thou and he 
Shall less lonely be. 
And of thy one loneliness 
Shall come two's great happiness. 



[114] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



COMFORT YE ! 

*^ Comfort ye, my peopled* 
Saith your God, — 
^'And he ye comforted! 
And — be — ye — comforted/'^ 

Roughly my plough did plough you, 
Sharp were my strokes, and sore. 
But nothing less could bow you. 
Nothing less could your souls restore 
To the depths and the heights of my longing, 
To the strength you had known before. 

For^ — ^you were falling, falling, 
Even the best of you. 
Falling from your high calling; 
And this, My test of you. 
Has been for your souls' redemption 
From the little things of earth, 
What seemed to you death's agony 
Was but a greater birth. 
[115] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



COMFORT YE! (continued) 

And now you shall have gladness 
For the years you have seen ill; 
Give up to Me your sadness, 
And I your cup will fill. 



[116] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



S. ELIZABETH'S LEPER 

"My lord, there came unto the gate 
One, in such pitiful estate. 
So all forlorn and desolate, 
Ill-fed, ill-clad, of ills compact; 
A leper too, — his poor flesh wracked 
And dead, his very bones infect; 
Of all God's sons none so abject. 
I could not, on the Lord's own day. 
Turn such a stricken one away. 
In pity him I took, and fed. 
And happed him in our royal bed.'* 

"A leper! — in our bed! — Nay then, 
My Queen, thy charities do pass 
The bounds of sense at times ! A bane 
On such unwholesome tenderness ! 
Dost nothing owe to him who shares 
Thy couch, and suffers by thy cares? 
He could have slept upon the floor, 
And left you still his creditor. 
A leper! — in my bed! — God's truth! 
Out upon such outrageous ruth!" 
[117] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



S. ELIZABETH'S LEPER (continued) 

He strode in anger towards the bed, 

And lo !— 

The Christ, with thorn-crowned head, 
Lay there in sweet sleep pillowed. 



[118] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



VOX CLAMANTIS 

(The Plea of the Munition- Worker) 

^^ Rattle and clatter and clank and whirr ^^^ 

And it's long and long the day is. 
From earliest morn to late at night, 
And all night long, the selfsame song, — 
'^Rattle and clank and whirr/' 
Day in, day out, all day, all night, — 
'^Rattle and clank and whirr f' 
With faces tight, with all our might, — 
'^Rattle and clank and whirr f 
We may not stop and we dare not err; 
Our men are risking their lives out there, 
And we at home must do our share; — 
But it's long and long the day is. 
We'll break if we must, but we cannot spare 
A thought for ourselves, or the kids, or care, 
For it's ^^Rattle and clatter and clank and whirr f 
Our men are giving their lives out there 
And we'll give ours, we will do our share, — 
■^Rattle and clank and whirr." 

[119] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



VOX CLAMANTIS (continued) 

Are our faces grave, and our eyes intent? 
Is every ounce that is in us bent 
On the uttermost pitch of accomplishment? 
Though it's long and long the day is! 
Ah — we know what it means if we fool or slack; 
— A rifle jammed, — and one comes not back; 
And we never forget, — it's for us they gave; 
And so we will slave, and slave, and slave, 
Lest the men at the front should rue it. 
Their all they gave, and their lives we'll save, 
If the hardest of work can do it; — 
But it's long and long the day is. 

Eight hours', ten hours', twelve hours' shift; — 
Oh, it's long and long the day is! 
Up before light, and home in the night. 
That is our share in the desperate fight; — 
And it's long and long the day is! 
Backs and arms and heads that ache. 
Eyes over-tired and legs that shake, 
And hearts full nigh to burst and break; — 
Oh, it's long and long the day is! 
Week in, week out, not a second to spare. 
But though it should kill us we'll do our share, 

[120] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



VOX CLAMANTIS (continued) 

For the sake of the lads, who have gone out 

there 
For the sake of us others, to do and dare; — 
But it's long and long the day is! 

'^Rattle and clatter and clank and whirr,'* 
And thousands of wheels a-spinning, — 
Spinning Death for the men of wrath. 
Spinning Death for the broken troth, 
— And Life, and a New Beginning. 
Was there ever, since ever the world was made. 
Such a horrible trade for a peace-loving maid. 
And such wonderful, terrible spinning? 

Oh, It's dreary work and It's weary work, 
But none of us all will fall or shirk. 



[121] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



FLORA'S BIT 

Flora, with wondrous feathers in her hat, 
Rain-soaked, and limp, and feeling very flat, 
With flowers of sorts in her full basket, sat, 
Back to the railings, there by Charing Cross, 
And cursed the weather and a blank day's loss. 

"Wevver!" she cried, to P. C. E. 09, — 
"Wevver, you calls it? — Your sort then, not mine ! 
I calls it blanky 'NO.' So there you are, — 
Bit of Old Nick's worstest particular. 
Wevver indeed! Not much, my little son, 
It's just old London's nastiest kind of fun. 

'^Fi'lets, narcissus, primroses and daffs, — 
See how they sits up in their beds an^ laughs! 
Buy, Pretty Ladies — for your next at 'ome! 
Gents! — for the gells now — buy a pretty bloom! 

"Gosh! — ^but them 'buses is a fair disgrace. 
Squirting their dirty mud into one's face, 
Robert, my son, you a'n't half worth your salt. 
Or you'd arrest 'em for a blank assault! 

[122] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



FLORA'S BIT (continued) 

^'Primroses, narcissus, daffs and violets, — 
First come is first served, and pick o' basket gets. 

"Garn then and git! Ain't none o' you no good! 

Cawn't spare a copper to'rds a pore gell's food. 

Gives one the 'ump it does, to see you all go by, 

An' me a-sittin' 'ere all day, 

An' none o' you won't buy. 

Fi'lets, narcissus, — . . . Blimy! Strike me 

dumb! 
Garn! What's the good o' you? — lot o' dirty 

scum! 
Silly blokes! — stony brokes! — I'm a-goin' 'ome!" 

And then, from out the "Corner-House," 

Came two, and two, and two. 

Three pretty maids, three little Subs, 

Doing as young Subs do. 

When four days' leave gives them the chance 

Of a little bill and coo. 

"What ho!" they cried, as they espied 
Flora's bright flower-pot. 

"Hi! — you there with the last year's hat! — 
Let's see what you have got ! 

[123] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



FLORA'S BIT (continued) 

And if they're half as nice as you, 
We'll buy the blooming lot." 

But, as they stood there chaffering. 

Out from the station came 

A string of cautious motor-cars, 

Packed full of lean, brown men, — 

The halt, the maimed, the blind, the lame,- 

The wreckage of the wars, — 

Their faces pinched and full of pain. 

Their eyes still dazed with stress and strain,- 

The nation's creditors. 

The Subs, the girls, and Flora stood, 

There in the pouring rain. 

And shouted hearty welcomes to 

The broken, lean-faced men. 

And when they'd passed, the little Subs 

Turned to their fun again. 

But the biggest heart among them all 
Beat under the feathered hat; — 
"Not me!" she cried, and up, and sped 
After the boys who had fought and bled, — 
"Here's a game worth two o' that!" 

[124] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



FLORA'S BIT (continued) 

She caught the cars, and In she flung 

Her wares with lavish hand. 

''Narcissus! — violets/ — here, you chaps! 

Primroses/ dafsf — for your rumply caps! 

My ! Ain't you black-an'-tanned ! 

Narcissus/ violets/ — all abloom, — 

We're glad to see you back. 

Primroses/ — daffs/ Thenk Gawd you laughs, 

If it's on'y crooked smiles. 

We're glad, my lads, to see you home, 

If your faces are like files." 



They thanked her with their crooked smiles, 

Their bandaged hands they waved, 

Narcissus, vi'lets, prims, and daffs, 

They welcomed them with twisted laughs. 

Quite proper they behaved. 

And one said, "You're a Daisy, dear, 

And if you'd stop the 'bus 

We'd every one give you a kiss. 

And so say all of us. 

A Daisy, dear, that's what you are." 

And the rest, — "You are! You are!" 

Then Flora swung her basket high, 
And tossed her feathered head; 

[125] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



FLORA'S BIT (continued) 

To the boys she gave one final wave, 

And to herself she said, — 

"What kind of a silly old fool am I, 

Playin' the goat like that? — 

Chuckin' of all my stock awye, 

And damaging me 'at? 

But them poor lads did look so thin, 

I couldn't ha' slept if I 'adn't a-bin 

An' gone an' done this foolish thing. 

An' it done them good, an' it done me good, 

So what's the odds if I does go lean. 

For a day or two, till the nibs comes in? 

A gell like me can always live. 

An' the bit I had I had to give. 

An' he called me a Daisy! — aw — *Daisy dear!' 

An' I — tell — you, it made me queer, — 

With a lump in me throat and a swell right here. 

Fust time ever any one called me that. 

An', I swear, it's better'n a bran new hat." 



[126] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



RED BREAST 

I saw one hanging on a tree, 
And O his face was sad to see, — 
Misery, misery me! 

There were berries red upon his head. 
And in his hands, and on his feet, 
But when I tried to pick and eat. 
They were his blood, and he was dead; — 
Misery, misery me! 

It broke my heart to see him there, 
So lone and sad in his despair; 
The nails of woe were through his hands, 
And through his feet, — ah, misery me! 

With beak and claws I did my best 
To loose the nails and set him free. 
But they were all too strong for me; — 
Misery, misery me! 

I picked and pulled, and did my best. 
And his red blood stained all my breast; 

[127] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



RED BREAST (continued) 

I bit the nails, I pecked the thorn, 
O, never saw I thorn so worn; 
But yet I could not get him free; — 
Misery^ misery me! 

And never since have I feared man, 
But ever I seek him when I can, 
And let him see the wish in me 
To ease him of his misery. 



[128] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



OUR HEARTS FOR YOU 

By the grace of God and the courage 

Of the peoples far and wide, 

By the toil and sweat of those who lived, 

And the blood of those who died. 

We have won the fight, we have saved the Right, 

For the Lord was on our side. 

We have come through the valley of shadows, 

We have won to the light again. 

We have smitten to earth the evil thing, 

And our sons have proved them men. 

But not alone by our might have we won, 

For the Lord fought in our van. 

When the night was at its darkest. 

And never a light could we see,— 

When earth seemed like to be enslaved 

In a monstrous tyranny; — 

Then the flaming sword of our Over-Lord 

Struck home for liberty. 

All the words in the world cannot tell you 
What brims in our hearts for you; 

[129] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



OUR HEARTS FOR YOU (continued) 

For the lives you gave our lives to save 
We offer our hearts to you; 
We can never repay, we can only pray,- 
God fulfil our hearts for you! 



[130] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE BURDENED ASS 

(An Allegory) 

One day, as I travelled the highway alone, 
I heard, on in front, a most dolorous groan; 
And there, round the corner, a weary old ass 
Was nuzzling the hedge for a mouthful of grass. 
The load that he carried was piled up so high 
That it blocked half the road and threatened 

the sky. 
Indeed, of himself I could see but a scrap, 
And expected each minute to see that go snap; 
For beneath all his load I could see but his legs. 
And they were as thin as the thinnest clothes- 
pegs. 

I said, "O most gentle and innocent beast. 
Say, — why is your burden so greatly increased? 
Who loads you like this, beyond reason and right? 
Is it done for a purpose, or just out of spite? 
Is it all your own treasures you have in your 
pack, 

[131] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE BURDENED ASS (continued) 

That crumples your backbone and makes your 

ribs crack? 
It is really too much for an old ass's back." 

"Treasures!" — he groaned, through a lump of 

chewed grass, 
*^Are they treasures? I don't know. I'm only 

the ass 
That carries whatever they all like to pack 
On my load, without thought of my ribs or my 

back. 
I know there are heaps of things there that I 

hate, 
But it's always been so. I guess it's my fate." 
And he flicked his long ears, and switched his 

thin tail. 
And rasped his rough neck with a hinder-foot 

nail. 

"There are fighting-men somewhere up there, and 

some fools, 
And talking-men — heaps — who have quitted their 

stools 
To manage the state and direct its affairs. 
And see, I suppose, that we all get our shares, — 

[132] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE BURDENED ASS (continued) 

And ladies and lords, and their offspring and 

heirs, 
And their flunkeys and toadies, and merchants and 

wares. — - 
And parsons and lawyers, — O heaps, — in that 

box. 
And big folk and small folk, and all kinds of 

crocks. 

^'That mighty hig hale? — Poison, that, — for the 

people; 
Whatever else lacks they must still have their 

tipple. 
That's The Trade, don't you know, that no one 

can shackle, — 
'Vested Int'rests,' they call it, and that kind of 

cackle. 
Why the Bishops themselves dare not tackle the 

tipple. 
For it props up the church and at times builds a 

steeple." 

(A strangely ingenuous old ass, you perceive. 
Whom any shrewd rascal could easily deceive.) 

[133] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE BURDENED ASS (continued) 

''That other big halef — What I said, — fighting 

things, — 
Ammunition and guns and these new things with 

wings, 

yes, they bulk big, but we need them, — for 

why? — 
If we hadn't as much as the others have — why. 
They say we might just as well lie down and die. 

''Yon big bale on top? — ^Ah! that is a big weight. 

And that's just the one of the lot I most hate. 

That's Capital, that is, — and landlords and such; 

And there seems to me sometimes a bit over- 
much 

In that bale. But there, — I'm perhaps wrong 
again. 

Such matters are outside an old ass's ken. 

r 

"My fodder? Oh well, you see, — no room for 
that. 

1 pick as I go, and no chance to get fat. 

That poison bulks large, — and the landlords, you 
see; — 

[134] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE BURDENED ASS (contfnued) 

And that Capital's heavy as heavy can be. 
Some one's bound to go short, and of course that 
one's ME." 



He kicked up one heel with a snort of disgust, 
And — sudden as though by a giant hand thrust. 
The top-heavy pack on his lean back revolved, 
Came crashing to earth, and in fragments dis- 
solved. 

Much surprised, — the old ass, thus set free from 

his load. 
Picked out a soft spot in the nice dusty road. 
And laid him down on it and rolled in high glee, 
And, as he kicked this way and that, said to 

me, — 

"Say, Man, I have never enjoyed such a roll 
Since the day I was born, a silly young foal. 
Seems to me, if I'd had half the sense of an ass, 
I'd have long since got rid of that troublesome 

mass. 
But now that it's down, why — down it shall stop. 
All my life's been down under, but now I'm on 

top." 

[135] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE BURDENED ASS (continued) 

Then he came right-side up, pranced about on 

his load, 
And kicked it to pieces all over the road. 

And what all this means, I really can't say. 
It may not mean much. But — again, — why, it 
may. 



[1361 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



WINNERS OR LOSERS? 

Unless our Souls win back to Thee, 
We shall have lost this fight. 
Yes, though we win on field and sea, 
Though mightier still our might may be. 
We still shall lose if we win not Thee. 
Help us to climb, as in Thy sight. 
The Great High Way of Thy Delight. 

It is the world-old strife again, — 
The ^^t 'twixt good and ill. 
Since first the curse broke out in Cain, 
Each age has worn the grim red chain. 
And ill fought good for sake of gain. 

Help us, through all lifers conflict, still 
To battle upwards to Thy Will. 

Are we to be like all the rest. 

Or climb we loftier height? 

Can we our wayward steps arrest? — 

All life with nobler life invest? — 

And so fulfil our Lord's behest? 

Help us, through all the world^s dark night, 
To struggle upwards to the Light. 
[137] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



WINNERS OR LOSERS? (continued) 

If not, — we too shall pass, as passed 
The older peoples In their time. 
God's pact is sure, His word stands fast, — 
Those who His sovereignty outcast 
Outcast themselves shall be at last. 

So, — lest we pass in this our prime, 
Lord, set us to the upward climb/ 



[138] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



CHRIST AT THE BAR 

Christ stands at the bar of the world to-day, 
As He stood in the days of old. 
And still, as then, we do betray 
Our Lord for greed of gold. 



When our every deed and word and thought 
Should our fealty proclaim, 
Full oft we bring His name to nought 
And cover Him with shame. 



Not alone did Judas his Master sell, 
Nor Peter his Lord deny. 
Each one who doth His love repel, 
Or at His guidance doth rebel. 
Doth the Lord Christ crucify. 



Like the men of old, we vote His death. 
Lest His life should interfere 
With the things we have, or the things we crave. 
Or the things we hold more dear. 

[139] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



CHRIST AT THE BAR (continued) 

Christ stands at the bar of the world to-day, 

As He stood in the days of old. 

Let each man tax his soul and say, — 

"Shall I again my Lord betray 

For my greed, or my goods, or my gold?" 



[140] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



MY BROTHER'S KEEPER? 

(A Warning) 

'^Am I my brother's keeper f 

Yes, of a truth! 

Thine asking is thine answer. ' 

That self-condemning cry of Cain 

Has been the plea of every selfish soul since 

then, 
Which hath its brother slain. 
God's word is plain. 
And doth thy shrinking soul arraign. 

Thy brother's keeper? 
Yea, of a truth thou art! 
For if not — who? 

Are ye not both, — both thou and he, 
Of God's great family? 
How rid thee of thy soul's responsibility? 
For every ill in all the world 
Each soul is sponsor and account must bear. 
And He, and he thy brother of despair, 
Claim, of thy overmuch, their share. 

[141] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



xVEY BROTHER'S KEEPER? (continued) 

Thou hast had good, and he the strangled 

days ; 
But now, — the old things pass. 
No longer of thy grace 
Is he content to live in evil case 
For the anointing of thy shining face. 
The old things pass. — Beware lest ye pass with 

them. 
And your place 
Become an emptiness ! 

Beware! Lest, when the "Have-nots" claim. 

From those who have, their rightful share, 

Thy borders be swept bare 

As by the final flame. 

Better to share before than after. 

''Afterf . . . For thee may be no after! 

Only the howl of mocking laughter 

At thy belated care. Make no mistake ! — 

"After" will be too late. 

When once the "Have-nots" claim . . . they 

take. 
"After!" . . . When that full claim is made, 
You and your golden gods may all lie dead. 

[142] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



MY BROTHER'S KEEPER? (continued) 

Set now your house in order, 

Ere it be too late ! 

For, once the storm of hate 

Be loosed, no man shall stay it till 

Its thirst has slaked its fill. 

And you, poor victims of this last "too late," 

Shall in the shadows mourn your lost estate. 



[143] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



A TELEPHONE MESSAGE 

(To Whom it May Concern) 



Hello! Hello! 

Are you there? Are you there? 

Ah! That you? Well,— 

This is just to tell you 

That there's trouble in the air . 

Trouble, — 

T-R-O-U-B-L-E— Trouble ! 

JVhere? 

In the air. 

Trouble in the air! 

Got that? . . . Right! 

Then — take a word of warning, 

And . . . Beware! 

What trouble? 
Every trouble, — everywhere, 
Every wildest kind of nightmare 
That has ridden you is there. 
In the air. 

And it's coming like a whirlwind, 
[144] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



A TELEPHONE MESSAGE (continued) 

Like a wild beast mad with hunger, 
To rend and wrench and tear, — 
To tear the world in pieces maybe. 
Unless it gets its share. 
Can't you see the signs and portents? 
Can't you feel them in the air? 
Can't you see, — ^you unbeliever? 
Can't you see ? — or don't you care, — 
That the Past is gone for ever. 
Past your uttermost endeavour, — 
That To-day is on the scrap-heap. 
And the Future^ — anywhere? 

Where? 

Ah — that's beyond me! — 
But it lies with those who dare 
To think of big To-morrows, 
And intend to have their share. 

All the things you've held and trusted 
Are played-out, decayed, and rusted; 
Now, in fiery circumstance. 
They will all be readjusted. 
If you cling to those old things. 
Hoping still to hold the strings, 
[145] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



A TELEPHONE MESSAGE (continued) 

And, for your ungodly gains, 
Life to bind with golden chains; — 
Man! you're mightily mistaken! 
From such dreams you'd best awaken 
To the sense of what is coming. 
When you hear the low, dull booming 
Of the far-off tocsin drums. 
— Such a day of vast upsettings. 
Dire outcastings and downsettings ! — 
You have held the reins too long, — 
Have you time to heal the wrong? 

JVhat^s wrong? JVhafs amiss? 

Man alive ! If you don't know that — 

There's nothing more to be said! 

— You ask what's amiss when your destinies 

Hang by a thread in the great abyss? 

Whafs amiss? Whafs amiss? — 

Well, my friend, just this, — 

There's a bill to pay and it's due to-day, 

And before it's paid you may all be dead. 

Wake up ! Wake up ! — or, all too late. 

You will find yourselves exterminate. 

JVhafs wrong? 
Listen here ! — 

[146] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



A TELEPHONE MESSAGE (continued) 

Do you catch a sound like drumming? — 
Far-away and distant drumming? 
You hear it? What? 
The wires humming? 
No, my friend, it is not! 

It's the tune the prentice-hands are thrum- 
ming, — 
The tune of the dire red time that's coming,— 
The far-away, pregnant, ghostly booming 
Of the great red drums' dread drumming. 
For they're coming, coming, coming, — 
With their dread and doomful drumming. 
Unless you . . . 
Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r — click — clack I 



[147] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE STARS' ACCUSAL 

How can the makers of unrighteous wars 
Stand the accusal of the watchful stars? 

To stand — 

A dust-speck, facing the infinitudes 

Of Thine unfathomable dome, a night like this, — 

To stand full-face to Thy High Majesties, 

Thy myriad worlds in solemn watchfulness, — 

Watching, watching, watching all below, 

And man in all his wilfulness for woe! 

— Dear Lord, one wonders that Thou bearest 

still 
With man on whom Thou didst such grace be- 
stow. 
And with his wilful faculty for woe I 

Those sleepless sentinels! They may be worlds 
All peopled like our own. But, as I stand. 
They are to me the myriad eyes of God, — 
Watching, watching, watching all below, 

And man in all his wilfulness for woe, 

[148] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE STARS' ACCUSAL (continued) 

And then — to think 

What those same piercing eyes look down upon 

Elsewhere on this fair earth that Thou hast 

made ! — 
Watching, watching, watching all below, 
And man in all his wilfulness for woe. 

— On all the desolations he hath wrought, 
— On all the passioned hatreds he hath taught, 
— On all Thy great hopes he hath brought to 

nought ; — 
— Man rending man with ruthless bitterness, 
— Blasting Thine image into nothingness, 
— Hounding Thy innocents to awful deaths. 
And worse than deaths! Happy the dead, who 

sped 
Before the torturers their lust had fed ! 
— On Thy Christ crucified afresh each day, 
— On all the horrors of War's grim red way. 
And ever, in Thy solemn midnight skies. 
Those myriad, sleepless, vast accusing eyes, — 
Watching, watching, watching all below, 
And man in all his wilfulness for woe. 

Dear Lord! — 

When in our troubled hearts we ponder this, 

, [149] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE STARS' ACCUSAL (continued) 

We can but wonder at Thy wrath delayed, — 
We can but wonder that Thy hand is stayed, — 
We can but wonder at Thy sufferance 
Of man, whom Thou in Thine own image made. 
When he that image doth so sore degrade I 

If Thou shouldst blot us out without a word, 

Our stricken souls must say we had incurred 

Just punishment. 

Warnings we lacked not, warnings oft and clear. 

But in our arrogance we gave no ear 

To Thine admonishment. 

And yet, — and yet I O Lord, we humbly pray, — 

Put back again Thy righteous Judgment Day I 

Have patience with us yet a while, until 

Through these our sufferings we learn Thy Will. 



[150] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



NO PEACE BUT A RIGHT PEACE 

An Inconclusive peace! — 
A peace that would be no peace — 
Naught but a treacherous truce for breeding 
Of a later, greater, baser-still betrayal! — 
"No!" . . . 

The spirits of our myriad valiant dead, 
Who died to make peace sure and life secure. 
Thunder one mighty cry of righteous indigna- 
tion, — 
One vast imperative, unanswerable "No!" . . . 
"Not for that, not for that, did we die!" — 
They cry; — 

" — To give fresh life to godless knavery! 
— To forge again the chains of slavery 
Such as humanity has never known! 
We gave our lives to set Life free. 
Loyally, willingly gave we. 
Lest on our children, and on theirs, 
Should come like misery. 
And now, from our souls' heights and depths. 
We cry to you, — "Beware, 

[151] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



NO PEACE BUT A RIGHT PEACE (continued) 

Lest you defraud us of one smallest atom of the 

price 
Of this our sacrifice! 
One fraction less than that full liberty, 
Which comes of righteous and enduring peace, 
Will be betrayal of your trust, — 
Betrayal of your race, the world, and God.*' 



[152] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



IN CHURCH. 19 16 

Where are all the young men? 
There are only grey-heads here. 
What has become of the young men? 

This is the young men's year! 

They are gone, one and all, at duty's call, 
To the camp, to the trench, to the sea. 
They have left their homes, they have left their 

all. 
And now, in ways heroical, — 

They are making history. 
From bank and shop, from bench and mill, 
From the schools, from the tail of the plough, 
They hurried away at the call of the fray, 
They could not linger a day, and now, — 

They are making history. 
And we miss them sorely, as we look 
At the seats where they used to be. 
And try to picture them as they are, — 
Then hastily drop the vail : — for, you see, — 
They are making history, 
• ••*•• 

[153] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



IN CHURCH. 1916 (continued) 

And history, in these dread days, 

Is sore sore sad in the making; 

We are building the future with our dead, 

We are binding it sure with the brave blood shed, 

Though our hearts are well-nigh breaking. 

We can but pray that the coming day 

Will reap, of our red sowing, 

The harvest meet of a world complete 

With the peace of God's bestowing. 

So, with quiet heart, we do our part 

In the travail of this mystery. 

We give of our best, and we leave the rest 

To Him Who maketh history. 



[154] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



Some Hymns of Thanksgiving, 
Praise, and Petition for use at The 
Coming Peace which, please God, 
cannot now be long delayed. 



[155] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



TE DEUM 

We thank Thee, O our God, for this 
Long fought-for, hoped-for, prayed-for peace; 
Thou dost cast down, and Thou upraise, 
Thy hand doth order all our ways. 

Lift all our hearts to nobler life. 
For ever freed from fear of strife; 
Let all men everywhere in Thee 
Possess their souls in liberty. 

Safe in Thy Love we leave our dead; 
Heal all the wounds that war has made. 
And help us to uproot each wrong. 
Which still among us waxeth strong. 

Break all the bars that hold apart 
All men of nobler mind and heart; 
Let all men find alone in Thee 
Their one and only sovereignty! 



Tune— O/^ Hundredth. 

[157] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THROUGH ME ONLY 

Out of all the reek and turmoil 
Of the dreadful battle-plain, 
Came a voice insistent, calling, 
Calling, calling, but in vain; — 

*' Through Me only 
Shall the world have peace again.** 

But our hearts were too sore-burdened. 
Fighting foes and fighting pain. 
And we heeded not the clear voice, 
Calling, calling all in vain; — 

''Through Me only 
Shall the world have peace again.** 

Now, at last, the warfare ended. 
Dead the passion, loosed the strain, 
Louder still that voice is calling; 
Shall it call and call in vain? 

''Through Me only 
Shall the world have peace again.** 
[158] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THROUGH ME ONLY (continued) 

Now we hear it; now we hearken, 

In the silence of our slain, 

Broken hearts new homes would build them 

Of the fragments that remain. 

''Through Me only 
Shall the world have peace agamy 

Lord, we know it by our sorrows, 
Might of man can ne'er attain 
That Thou givest Now we offer 
Thee the Kingship. Come and reign I 

Through Thee only 
Shall our loss be turned to gain. 

Show us. Lord, all Thou would' st have us 
Do to garner all Thy grain. 
Thy deep ploughing. Thy sure sowing 
Richest harvest shall obtain. 

Only come Thou, 
Come and dwell with us again I 



Tune — Abbeycombe. 

[159] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



PRINCE OF PEACE 

O Thou who standest both for God and Man, 
O King of Kings, who wore no earthly crown, 
O Prince of Peace, unto Thy feet we come, 

And lay our burden down. 

The weight had grown beyond our strength to 

bear, 
Thy Love alone the woful thrall can break. 
Thy Love, reborn into this world of care. 
Alone can life remake. 

How shall we turn to good this weight of ill? 
How of our sorrows build anew to Thee ? 
"Of your own selves ye cannot stand or build, — 
Only through Me, — through 
Mer 

O, turn once more to Thee the hearts of men. 
Work through the leaven of our grief and pain. 
Let not these agonies be all in vain. 

Come, dwell with us again I 
[160] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



PRINCE OF PEACE (continued) 

The world has nailed itself unto its cross; 
O, tender to Thy hands its heart will prove, 
For Thou alone canst heal its dreadful loss,— 
Come Thou and reign in 
love ! 

Peace and the sword. Lord, Thou didst come to 

bring; 
Too long the sword has drunk to Thy decrease. 
Come now, by this high way of suffering. 

And reign, O Prince of 
Peace ! 



Tune — Artavia. 

"And didst Thou love the race that loved not 
Thee?" 

[161] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE WINNOWING 

Lord, Thou hast stricken us, smitten us sore, 
Winnowed us fine on the dread threshing-floor. 
"Had I not reason? — far 

you had strayed. 
Vain was My calling, you 
would not be stayed." 

Low in the dust. Lord, our hearts now are bowed. 
Roughly Thy share through our boasting has 
ploughed. 

"So as My ploughing pre- 
pares for the seed, 
So shall the harvest our 
best hopes exceed." 

Lord, we have lost of our dearest and best. 
Flung to the void and cast out to the waste. 

"Nay then, not one of them 

fell from My hand, 
Here at My side in their 
glory they stand." 
[162] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



THE WINNOWING (continued) 

How shall we start, Lord, to build life again, 
Fairer and sweeter, and freed from its pain? 

"Build ye in Me and your 

building shall be 
Builded for Time and Eter- 
nity." 



Tune— TA^o^ora. 

"Rest of the lueary, joy of the sad. 

[163] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



TO THIS END 

And hast Thou help for such as me, 
Sin-weary, stained, forlorn? 

^^Yea then, — if not for such as thee 
To what end was I born?'* 

But I have strayed so far away, 
So oft forgotten Thee. 

'Wo smallest thing that thou hast done 
But was all known to Me J* 

And I have followed other gods. 
And brought Thy name to scorn. 

^'It was to win thee hack from them 
I wore the crown of thornJ' 

And, spite of all. Thou canst forgive. 
And still attend my cry? 

^^Dear heart, for this end I did live, 
To this end did I die.'* 

And if I fall away again, 

And bring Thy Love to shame? 

'T// find thee out where'er thou art, 
And still thy love will claim'' 
[164] 



THE KING'S HIGH WAY 



TO THIS END (continued) 

All this for me, whose constant lack 
Doth cause Thee constant pain? 

**For this I lived, for this I died, 
For this I live again'* 



[165] 



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